


Vaygaytion

by Briar0942



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19457890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar0942/pseuds/Briar0942
Summary: Crowley wants a vacation and Aziraphale is more than willing to come along. Neither of them are actually ready to face California.





	Vaygaytion

"Hey, angel," Crowley called as he walked into the bookshop, the tiny bell above the door ringing. He glanced around for Aziraphale and felt his mouth go dry as the angel didn't answer.

And then, a moment later, there was a _thump_ , signifying someone was there. "Over here!" Crowley let out a small sigh of relief as he walked over to the back room and dropped onto the couch.

"What're you doing?"

"Reorganizing," the angel answered without turning around.

Crowley didn't respond as he readjusted himself on the couch, dropping his head on the cushion and throwing his legs over one armrest. "Why?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "Why not? I like to mix things up every fifty years or so. Add some variety or something," he said. He placed one more book on a shelf before wiping his hands on his pants and standing up. Finally, he faced Crowley and sat down in his chair. "As the Them like to say, what's up? As much as I enjoy your random visits I sense there's something specific you came here to talk about," he pointed out.

Crowley pulled his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. "What makes you say that? I like being over here. With you. Is there something wrong with that?" He asked.

Aziraphale had a half-smile on his face. "Of course there's nothing wrong with that, but it doesn't change the fact that you're deflecting. What's on your mind, my dear?"

"I was just..." he trailed off, trying to figure out the right words. "Have you ever been to California?"

That caught Aziraphale off-guard. "California? In the States? Er, I can't say that I have. Have you?"

Crowley shook his head. "Not once in 6,000 years. Do you want to?"

"Do I—er, I never really thought about it. I don't know. Why?"

"I was just thinking about, maybe, going?" Crowley answered. It was a question. But Aziraphale knew there was a question within the question.

It just took him a moment to figure it out. "Oh, you want me to go with you?" He asked. Crowley nodded once. They were both silent for a minute. "When do we leave?"

Crowley propped himself up and turned to him. "Really? You'll come?" Aziraphale nodded and smiled.

"It sounds fun. When do we leave?" He repeated.

"I was thinking in two weeks. The beginning of July. Work for you?"

Aziraphale nodded. "You and I both know I do the most I can to avoid selling books. Taking a vacation and closing the shop down for a bit? Well, can't sell any books then," he said. "We're both free all the time, my dear."

"Yeah, that's true. I was thinking we'd go for about a week? Maybe bring Adam back something for his birthday," Crowley suggested.

It had been almost a year after the Armageddon That Wasn't, but sometimes when Crowley walked into the bookshop and Aziraphale didn't answer, a tight ball of anxiety began to form until he found the angel.

And, on the few nights Aziraphale did sleep, he would wake up from nightmares of Crowley dissolving in holy water. The holy water he had given him.

That first night after the Armageddon That Wasn't when he had gone home with Crowley, he had seen what was left of Ligur. Nothing. Just a puddle. He'd miracled it away with a wave of his hand, brushing off Crowley's teases of _do you think I'm that clumsy_ with a slight roll of his eyes.

"A week sounds good. Are we flying there, like, on a plane or just...teleporting?" Aziraphale asked, snapping his thoughts back to the present.

Crowley shrugged. "I was thinking of going on a plane, just because neither of us knows if there'll be a quiet and isolated spot for us to teleport into. You know?" Aziraphale nodded.

"I think that's a great idea. I also think getting Adam something is a great idea. Who knew you could have so many of them in so little time?" He teased, and a corner of Crowley's mouth ticked up. That felt like a win.

"They do happen on occasion." He pulled out his phone. "Since we're going by plane, you'll need to miracle an ID otherwise the people won't let you onto the plane," he said. "Which also means you'll need a name other than Aziraphale."

"Like how you have Anthony J. Crowley?" Aziraphale asked. Crowley nodded.

"This bookshop says 'A. Z. Fell' on it. Just find something for the A and then have 'Zira' and 'Fell.'" He suggested.

"Okay," Aziraphale said slowly, thinking. "I suppose it can't be Adam." Crowley shook his head. "Or Anthony." Another shake, but this time a slight smile was added. "Hey, what does the 'J' stand for anyway? And don't say just a j again," Aziraphale added.

Crowley shrugged. "It really is just a j, though. It's not important."

Aziraphale sighed. "Fine. I still want to know, though. How does this look?" He pulled an ID card out of thin air and handed it to Crowley, who out his phone down and looked it over.

He smiled when he looked at the name. "Ace?"

"It's simple and easy to remember." Aziraphale paused for a second. "Is it okay?"

Crowley nodded. "It's great. I like it, angel. And the picture," he said.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes slightly and snatched the card back. "What are you doing on your phone?"

"Finding a nice hotel. You've been to my apartment; I've got standards. And it helps that we can pull money out of thin air," Crowley answered. "It really all depends on where we want to stay." He turned his head to face the angel. "Anywhere specific you'd like to go?"

"I don't know. The way Anathema describes the beach makes it sound nice," Aziraphale said.

"There's a lot of beaches in California."

"So pick one. That's where we'll go. And we can go literally anywhere extremely easily, my dear, if we don't like it we'll go somewhere else," he pointed out.

Crowley opened and closed his mouth a few times before replying. "Yeah, you've got me there. I'm going to surprise you, then," he said.

Aziraphale smiled. "I look forward to it." He frowned slightly. "I'm assuming I'm going to need some new clothes for this trip?"

"Probably. But you can worry about that later, what with creating clothes out of thin air," Crowley said.

"You'll probably have to help me figure out what's 'acceptable' to wear on vacation," Aziraphale said.

"No, I'll be helping you figure out what you can wear and not overheat. California is much hotter than here," Crowley corrected him. "Other than that, you can wear whatever your heart desires, angel."

After a few more hours of talking and vague planning, Crowley finally went back to his flat and shouted at his plants while watering them. He got onto his not-very-good computer and got back to looking at hotels. After a while, the demon found one that wasn't exactly cheap, but money really wasn't an issue. It was kind of fancy, with a spa and multiple pools and a restaurant. He even found a nice sushi place a few hours away from the hotel in San Diego that he figured he could take Aziraphale to.

—

13 days later, Crowley was slouched on Aziraphale's couch. "Come on, angel; show me," he said.

Aziraphale let out a sigh from the side room and walked back out. He had on a typical tourist shirt on, complete with flowers on it. He was even wearing a fanny pack that made Crowley fight his grin. "That looks perfect. Very touristy. It's great. Do you have stuff to swim in? Because the hotel we're staying at has a pool and is, like, right on the beach."

The angel nodded. "I can figure something out. What do you have?"

Crowley stood up and spun around once, just for dramatics, and when he was facing Aziraphale again he was no longer in his tight pants and his blazer. His t-shirt was still on, but he had magicked on a pair of black swim shorts. "Can't go wrong with black. Well, I can't. _You_ can't go wrong with light colors," he said.

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley's legs and had to fight a laugh. "You know, for a demon, your legs are really pale."

Crowley waved a hand and appeared in his regular clothes again. "I doubt you're much better," he muttered.

The angel was still smiling. "I'm sorry, my dear, did I strike a sore spot?" He asked, sitting down.

"No. On the subject of legs, have you ever noticed how weird they are?"

Aziraphale let out a laugh. "What?"

"Legs! It's been 6,000 years and I'm still not quite used to them."

"Is that why you walk the way you do?"

"Oh no, that's just a choice. I'm aware of the way I walk," Crowley answered. Aziraphale let out a laugh.

"Hey, when's our flight?" he asked. 

Crowley thought for a second. "Uh, sometime before noon, I believe. So we'll have to be at the airport relatively early." He got up and stretched out his back for a moment. "Speaking of which, I should get home and pack."

Aziraphale hesitated for a second before asking, "Could I stay at your place tonight?"

Crowley stammered for a minute, clearly caught off-guard. "I—uh—what?" he finally got out.

The angel blushed slightly. "I was just thinking that maybe it would be, you know, easier if I did. That way we could just go straight to the airport instead of you coming all this way to get me. Obviously, you don't have to say yes," he added hurriedly.

"Relax, angel, of course, you can stay over. You just surprised me, that's all," Crowley assured him. "Come on, let's get going so I can actually pack," he said, smiling lightly.

Aziraphale smiled back and followed him out of the bookshop with a suitcase. He paused at the door and, when no one was watching, magicked a GONE ON VACATION—CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE sign on the door. Crowley put the suitcase in the backseat of his Bentley. "Oh, thank you, my dear," the angel said, getting in. Croley mumbled something that sounded like _anything for you, angel_ , but Aziraphale wasn't certain.

Crowley drove them to his flat. "Uh, I think there's still some spaghetti or something in the fridge from the last time you were here." Last time, in the case, being two months ago. Crowley had made spaghetti.

After the Armaggedon That Wasn't, and Aziraphale stayed the night, the angel slept over every so often. It wasn't much, considering he never really slept, but Crowley had gotten a cookbook so Aziraphale had something to eat.

"I'm pretty sure that's gone bad by now, but I appreciate it."

Crowley shrugged, kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly against the wall. "You're an angel, just miracle it back to edible," he suggested.

"Yeah, that'll work," Aziraphale agreed, following the demon into his bedroom. "What about your plants?"

Crowley snapped his fingers and a suitcase appeared. he crouched down to his dresser. "I've set up an automatic mister for them. They'll be fine. They know the consequences if they fail to meet expectations," he answered without turning around. 

"You really should be nicer to your plants, my dear," Aziraphale said.

Crowley shrugged and tossed a shirt into the empty suitcase. "Terrorizing them seems to be doing just fine," he replied.

"I suppose you do have a point. They are very beautiful," the angel said with a slight sigh.

"Are you bringing a jacket or something to keep you warm?" Crowley asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Aziraphale's head tilted slightly as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I thought you said it was going to be hot in California?"

Crowley nodded. He still hadn't turned around. "It is. But the very long plane ride is going to be cold."

"Well, what are you bringing for warmth?"

The demon pulled out a gray sweatshirt and turned around, holding it up. "I'm bringing this. It'll keep me warm. You?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "I'll be alright, dear. I don't get cold very easily." Crowley gave him a look. 

"Don't complain to me halfway through the flight when you get cold," he said,

He finished packing and zipped up the suitcase with a snap of his fingers. With another snap, he was in his silk pajamas. If there was any one-word to describe Crowley, it would be 'extra.'

"Are you gonna eat anything? 'Cause if not, I'm going to bed," the demon said.

Aziraphale shook his head. "No, that pasta is much past it's prime, but I don't know if I'll sleep," he replied.

"That's okay." Crowley crawled into his bed, shoving his face into the pillow and laying on his stomach. 

The angel laid down next to him, his hands folded over his stomach. With a blink of his eyes, he turned out the lights.

But he couldn't sleep. "Crowley, dear?"

"Mm."

"What time's the flight?"

"Ten-ish."

"When are we leaving?"

"Nine-ish."

"When are you going to get up?" 

"8:45."

"Crowley."

"Mm."

"Shouldn't you give yourself a bit more time?"

"No. Can I sleep now?"

Aziraphale let out a short sigh. "Yes, of course."

Crowley reached an arm over and wrapped it around the angel's waist. "Goodnight."

"'Night."

—

In the morning, Aziraphale was up with the sun. Crowley, on the other hand, did not wake up until his alarm on his phone went off at 8:45. The demon snapped his fingers to change and was immediately ready to leave. "Alright, angel, let's go. We've got a plane to catch—what are you wearing." It wasn't a question. 

Aziraphale looked down at his clothes. "You said this was acceptable."

Crowley picked up his suitcase. "It is, I just wasn't expecting you to wear it on the plane. But whatever, I'm used to it. Ready?" The angel nodded and lead the way out of the apartment and down to the Bentley.

Aziraphale put in a CD and—naturally—Queen started blaring over the car speakers. Crowley hummed along as he drove. "So how long is the flight, exactly?" the angel asked.

Crowley shrugged. "Eleven-ish hours, I think. Why?"

"I'm curious, is all."

"Can't argue with that," Crowley mumbled, causing Aziraphale to roll his eyes. 

They made it to the airport without hitting any pedestrians and breaking all of the speed laws, much to Aziraphale's displeasure. At least about the lawbreaking, he was quite glad they avoiding hitting anyone. Crowley counted the lawbreaking as a win. "We're next, Zira," he muttered, pointing out the obvious that they were, in fact, next to have their tickets and IDs and passports checked.

"I can see that," the angel replied just as quietly. "And since when do you call me Zira?"

Crowley glanced at him. "Since your ID says Ace Zira Fell instead of Aziraphale. Don't like it?"

Aziraphale gave him a slight smile. "I didn't say that. I'll get used to it," he said, an echo of what he had said when he found out about 'Anthony.' The TSA agent waved them up. The two beings handed him their documents. Naturally, everything went by smoothly.

Having already checked their bags in, all Crowley had to put on the conveyor belt at Security was a small backpack, his shoes, and his sweatshirt. Aziraphale took off his fanny pack and his shoes and mumbled, "Barbaric." Crowley fought a laugh and continued on through. It was easy to make it through without a hitch when there's an angel involved. 

"And now we just...wait?" said angel asked, sitting down in a chair at their gate. Crowley nodded.

"Simple and easy," he answered, sinking down in the chair next to him. "I believe they serve food on the flight," he added.

Aziraphale seemed more interested in that. "Oh?" 

Crowley shrugged. "But from what I heard it's not that great."

"Oh. Well, a meal's still a meal, right?"

"Right."

After a good half hour of waiting, the boarding began. Crowley and Aziraphale got onto the plane and found their seats halfway down. Crowley was in the middle and Aziraphale had the aisle. A few minutes later, a man stopped in front of their seats and said he had the window. The two beings got up and let him in and then sat down again. Crowley pulled out his phone and headphones from his miniature backpack and slouched down in a typically Crowley fashion.

Aziraphale pulled his own small iPod and headphones out of his fanny pack. A week before, Crowley had bought one for him and downloaded the songs from his records onto it. He glanced over at the demon, not surprised to see him already fast asleep. The angel smiled at the sight, Crowley's arms folded over his chest, his face relaxed. Aziraphale leaned back slightly as got as comfortable as he could on the not-very-comfortable seat. He paid rapt attention to the flight attendant as she went through the safety procedures. Figuring it was important, he had elbowed Crowley in an attempt to wake him up, causing the demon to let out an _umph_ noise and tilt his head onto his other shoulder. 

Aziraphale, who had never actually been on a plane before, was both very impressed and slightly shaken when it took off. Putting his headphones back in, he closed his eyes and relaxed.

Crowley woke up two hours into the flight and found Aziraphale shivering. He tapped the angel on the shoulder, getting his attention. "'I don't get cold easily. I'll be fine,'" he said, quietly quoting what Aziraphale had said before they left. 

"It's colder than I thought it'd be," he admitted, just as quiet. 

"Uh huh." Crowley pulled his sweatshirt off, taking care not to hit the angel or the stranger sitting next to him. "Take it," he said, trying to hand it over.

"I can't, then you'll be cold. I'll deal with my mistakes, Crowley."

Crowley shook the sweatshirt again. "Just take it, Zira. It's already off," he muttered. 

After another minute of hesitation, Crowley about ready to just force it on, Aziraphale finally mumbled, "Fine." He took the sweatshirt and pulled it on and the shivering stopped. He let out a slightly relieved sigh. "But what will you do?"

"This," Crowley answered, pushing the armrest between them up. He wrapped one arm around Aziraphale's back and let his head fall onto the angel's shoulders. "Leech off of you."

Aziraphale smiled. "Yeah, that works." He wrapped his arm under Crowley's head and around, lightly carding his fingers through the demon's red hair. It was extremely soft, he had found that out the first time he had done it months ago. He also found out the first time that it makes Crowley melt. 

They stayed like that for a few hours—four, to be specific—until the stranger sitting next to Crowley said to Aziraphale, "I'm sorry to break this up for a minute, but could you get up so that I can go to the bathroom?" He both looked and sounded a bit awkward, reminding Aziraphale of Newt. 

"Of course," he replied, shaking Crowley awake. 

"What's the matter?" he mumbled, blinking open his eyes.

"We've just got to move for a minute, dear, come on," the angel answered, unbuckling the seatbelt. Crowley blinked once more and then unbuckled his own, following Aziraphale into the aisle. The stranger thanked them as he passed. Crowley looked like he was barely awake. He had his sunglasses on, naturally, but Aziraphale could make out his eyes starting to close again. His hair was sticking up from the angel's fingers. 

A couple of minutes later, they let the stranger back into his seat, the man mumbling apologies and his thanks as he passed. 

Finally, Crowley was able to go back to sleep. He resumed his position of using Aziraphale as a pillow for the last five hours of the flight. Aziraphale didn't wake him up again until they were on the ground. Crowley stretched as much as he could, causing a lot of cracking noises. "That cannot be healthy, Crowley, really," Aziraphale said. 

"But it feels good." Well, he couldn't argue with that logic. "Ready to go face the monstrosity that is the LAX airport?" Aziraphale nodded.

The angel was, in fact, not ready. Almost immediately after getting off the plane, someone bumped into Aziraphale and then into Crowley, who let out an angry hiss in response. The two almost got separated three times within five minutes, so Crowley finally grabbed the angel's hand. "Let's not get lost in a foreign country," he said. 

"Good idea," Aziraphale replied. They found their way to customs and made it through without much hassle, and then to the baggage claim. Crowley grabbed their suitcases when Aziraphale saw them as his arms were longer. Finally, they went over to the rental car places and got a car.

Neither of them were ready for southern California traffic. Crowley kept honking and Aziraphale cringed every time a car passed way too close to another car.

Both of them got sick of it so Crowley, who—naturally—was driving, maneuvered the car into the Fast-Pass expressway and Aziraphale miracled a Fast-Pass into the car. This made their trip a little bit faster. Aziraphale turned on the radio and listened as some radio host attempted to give relationship advice to a woman who sounded like she was on the verge of tears. "Why do these exist? Now that poor woman's love life is out in public," the angel said.

Crowley shrugged in response. "Humans are weird, angel. You should know that as well as I do, considering you've been down here as long as I have."

"I guess I don't listen to the radio often enough then," Aziraphale replied, changing the station to one with music. Crowley didn't reply, just sped up the car, and if Aziraphale wasn't absolutely certain that they'd be fine if they hit someone, he'd be freaking out. "Really, my dear, is the speed necessary?"

Crowley shook his head. "Not at all, but it's fun."

They made it to their hotel along Huntington Beach in what was probably record time. Aziraphale couldn't quite believe they made it across four lines of slow-moving traffic to get to their exit. It was only 5 pm when they reached the hotel and three hours in the car suddenly became worth it once they got there. Someone from the hotel came by and put their suitcases on a trolley while another person came took the car away to the parking lot for them after giving Crowley a slip of paper so he could get the car back. "Valet parking and everything," he mumbled to himself before turning to Aziraphale. "We should go get checked in."

The angel led the way inside to the front desk. The receptionist—her nametag said her name was Hailey—smiled. "Hi, how can I help you two today?"

"We're checking in," Crowley answered, leaning on the counter. The demon really did not enjoy standing up straight.

"Awesome," Hailey said. "What's the last name?"

"Crowley."

Hailey typed it into the computer and brightened when his reservation popped up. "One room with a patio and firepit," she confirmed. 

"Firepit?" Aziraphale echoed.

"S'mores, angel. Figured you'd like that," Crowley replied.

Hailey did a quick glance between them. "Are you two on your honeymoon? Or an anniversary trip?"

Crowley opened his mouth to reply but Aziraphale beat him to it. "Something like that," he answered with a smile directed at the demon who's brain seemingly stopped working, causing Aziraphale's smile to grow. 

"This is a great place for that. We've got pools, the spa, that restaurant over there." Hailey pointed across the main entrance. "And then, of course, there's the beach." She paused for a moment to hand Aziraphale the keycards as Crowley was still in shock. "Here you go. Room 1412. Just out those doors, all the way across the courtyard, then the first hallway on your left. Take the elevator up a floor and you'll find your room."

Aziraphale thanked her and linked his arm with Crowley's and muttered, "Come on, my dear."

It took Crowley another few minutes to get his thoughts working again. "Uh, right, so...what do you want to do once we get to the room?" he asked.

"Relax a bit. Did you make a set schedule for the trip?" 

Crowley shook his head. "I think there's only one thing set in stone and that's on Wednesday. Other than that there's one other thing I want to do, but I figured we'd do that on Wednesday, too."

Aziraphale opened the door to the hallway. "Are you going to tell me what these things are?" he asked.

Crowley shook his head again. "Nope. I think you'll like the one plan and I'm fairly certain you'll like the other thing. What's life without a few surprises?"

"I suppose you have a point, but they won't be surprises for you," Aziraphale replied. He'd already thought of a way to surprise Crowley on the trip.

"I don't need surprises to have fun, and I know you don't either but I really think you'll like these." Crowley pushed the button for the elevator. Aziraphale still hadn't separated their arms and the demon was not about to complain.

"Did I say thank you earlier? For your sweatshirt?" Aziraphale asked rather suddenly. Crowley shrugged.

"Probably? I don't remember, I was half-asleep." They got into the elevator and pressed the button to go up. They didn't have to wait long for the elevator to go _ding_ and let them out. "Why are these hallways so cold? There's no reason for it," Crowley grumbled, making Aziraphale laugh. 

"I think you'll survive."

"Of course I'll survive but that doesn't answer why it's so bloody cold."

Aziraphale shook his head slightly, clearly still amused. He put in the keycard and opened the door to their room. It was nice and big and had a big, king-sized bed complete with reading lights attached to the sides of the headboard. "Look at that, angel, it's perfect for us," Crowley said. Upon seeing Aziraphale's confused look, he clarified, "I can sleep while you read."

"Ah, yes, that will be nice." He did a quick sweep of the room with his magic and found no security cameras. He unfurled his wings, a white feather falling to the ground. 

When he saw the very ruffled and rumpled state of the angel's wings, Crowley twitched a little. Noticing the discomfort, Aziraphale asked, "What's wrong?"

Crowley didn't really want to say his wings didn't look great. "Do you trust me?" he asked instead.

Aziraphale nodded. "Of course. Why?"

"Just—turn around." Aziraphale, still confused, did as told. Crowley walked over and began smoothing down feathers. 

"I don't know what I was expecting, but this wasn't it," Aziraphale admitted. Crowley smiled a little bit. 

"Something, something, surprises," he responded. He ran his hand down the small, extremely soft feathers closest to Aziraphale's back, causing the angel to shiver slightly and make a noise that made Crowley grin.

"Huh," was all Aziraphale said. Crowley smoothed down the other side of apparently sensitive feathers, causing the same reaction. He finished fixing the rest of the feathers and stepped back. 

"Much better," he said with a sigh of relief. 

Aziraphale tucked his wings in slightly and turned back around, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What was that for?" He sounded genuinely curious. 

"It just bothered me to see your wings so...ungroomed. As terrible as we demons are, we're very good at keeping ours nice and neat," Crowley answered and unfurled his own gray wings. "Not a feather out of place," he said proudly. 

An idea formed in Aziraphale's mind. "It's your turn to turn around."

Crowley stared at him in surprise for a moment. "What? Why?"

"Just trust me." Crowley sucked in a breath he didn't really need and turned around. Aziraphale lightly ran a hand down the soft, sensitive feathers. Crowley's eyes fluttered shut and he let out a content sigh. "Nice to know it has the same effect on you," Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded and opened his eyes.

"That it does." He tucked his wings in all the way. "So what do you want to do first?"

Aziraphale tucked his wings in. "Want to try the room service?" Crowley stretched out next to him on the bed. 

"Whatever you want, angel."


End file.
